Home Again, Sort Of
The past few days have gone by in a near blur. Our family welcomed us not only with arms held wide (while holding up a huge welcome home sign!) but threw us a huge party, complete with kids running around, lots of laughter and tons of catching up. It has been nothing short of pure bliss! I met my newest nephew and haven’t stopped hugging the other six. We have played in the pool, danced in the rain (thanks to a freak sudden downpour), and lived as though there was no tomorrow.
We have no routine, except to seek out as many family members as possible at once, and have barely just begun to settle into our temporary living quarters (with an internet connection that is slower than molasses!)
I have always heard people say that we should never refer to the US as “home” because it will make our kids feel like our home abroad isn’t really home, but over the last few days I have come to the conclusion that some of us, if we are really, really lucky, get to feel at home in more than one place. My mom put it so well when she told me that home isn’t a place, but rather a state of being… a feeling that we have when everything feels right and our hearts are at rest.
I know the next six months are going to be wild and busy and full of travel, but in this moment we have never felt happier to be home with all of our family surrounding us and loving on us. It’s pretty awesome!
